Tag Changer
by Mimi Karibu Nyinyi
Summary: MASH, Mobile Army Surgical Hospital. In 1950 the Korean War started and many MASHs had little supplies, but when Alice is confronted with a dying man and a final request, what lengths with she go to to save him? Based off of a true story.
1. Primary Colors

**Disclaimer: **

**Roses are red,**

**Violets are blue.**

**I don't own twilight, **

**and that's shity as poo.**

**This story isn't going to be as detailed as my other one, so be warned.**

**I know not many people know about the Korean War, and probably what you do know about it you learned from the TV show MASH. Well, this is a story about MASH, mobile army surgical hospital, and it's an Alice/ Jasper story with other things thrown in. **

**During the war, many men kept dying before the doctors had a chance to see them so a man devised a system of 'tagging'. if a man has a minor wound he would be tagged yellow and be tended to latter. If he was badly hurt, and could be saved he was tagged blue and sent to the OT (operating tent). Though, there were times when a man was too far gone, or it would have taken too long to fix him up, and there were others that could be saved in less time. In these case the man was tagged red. It's quite sad really, but at that time they needed to sacrifice. When a man was tagged red a nurse would come by with a huge dose of morphine and let the man drift off in peace (if he wasn't dead already).**

**History: a sermon inspierd this. **

**Happy reading!!**

I had never really been a religious person. Nor did it think before I came here that I would ever be one. I went to church like any other person from the street, but I would just as soon back out of it if there was a good sale at the mall. The mall, man that was a word I hadn't heard in a while, and God did I miss it.

To be honest I regret using all of my younger years to goof off or shop and fool around, instead of building a relationship with God. And right now I could have really used it.

I found my self holding onto my mother's rosary more and more and tugging on it, and kissing it here and there, clinging to it sometimes like it was the only anchor I had to reality, to my sanity.

Now, more than ever in my life I prayed, and prayed hard, harder than I ever had, day and night, every waking moment. I rubbed my rosary beads between my fingers and said Hail Mary's and Our Father's over the cots, and some times over the pallets on the floor if we ran out of beds for the men.

Often times if the front lines moved up closer to our border the lights would sputter and the ground shake from the force of the cannon's blows. Men would cry out and moan, for some, tears even sprang to their eyes.

This scared me, rattled me down deep, because when you spend months in an environment where the men around you wail and crawl about like children. Mangled broken children, mind you, and some, through my eyes _were_ but children, young and lithe with so much potential…

Their lives cut short…

Tagged red…

Red – death…

Red- your dead…

It was what I struggled with most out of everything. The rats, the smell of rotting flesh, the blood and screaming at night, it all shook me but not any where near as much as myself. What I did, because I was the killer here, not he gang green, though that took many, nor the disease, nor anything else. It was me. Me and my little glass bottle. I was the sickening angel of death sent upon these men, these poor, pitiful, yet faithful men, who gave their lives to hope for better future in their country, for their family.

America the free…

Home of the brave…

May the body count rise…

"Yellow!" I heard the doctor yell in front of me, and a nurse tagged the man and moved with the doctor to the next patient.

I exhaled, another one spared. I sent up another silent prayer and Father Allam and I moved ahead. I think he seemed happy that he wouldn't be delivering last rights to another man today, because I saw his shoulders relax a little.

"Blue!" I heard another doctor to my left call out. I glanced over just in time to see Emmett and Randall lifting a man onto a makeshift stretcher.

Emmett caught my glance, and before he turned to go he gave me a quick smile and a wink.

God I loved my brother more than anything in the world, he knew, he just knew when I needed a pick-me-up. God bless.

"Alice?" The voice shook me from my daze, and I looked up at Father Allam only to find him a few yard ahead of me. He looked at me expectantly and nodded for me to hurry up.

Three more men were tagged yellow, yellow, blue, and I looked at them as I walked past. The last man has being loaded onto a stretcher in front of me to be taken to the operating tent. Father Allam was talking to the man, who seemed quite frightened.

I heard, "Blue" to my left, then another "Blue! Blue!" Shouted off in quick secession to my right and front. Nurses rushed forward to assist the men and I saw Emmet and Randall shuffle into the wide tent again, load a man, and leave.

I walked forward a few steps and heard the doctor shout a 'blue' in front of me. I rubbed my rosary again.

Dear God no red, not today, please God, not today, not today. Over and over again the words sung in my head.

'Blue"

No red not today.

"Yellow"

My hand was getting tiered, so I switched the bottle to my other hand and began to run my fingers over the rosary again and again, kissing the cross here and there, like maybe, if I paid it enough attention it would stop the men from dying.

"Red"

A rock lodged itself deep in my stomach and I pulled on the rosary harder and harder till I was afraid I would break.

"Alice…" it was Father Allum, he looked up at me from where he was kneeling on the floor. He too had his rosary in hand, and his Bible in the other. "Alice…?" there was a guarded note in his voice. He nodded to the bottle in my hand. I nodded and he seemed to understand, because he went back to murmuring over the man.

I could fell my body starting to shake as I reached for the capped needle in my pocket. It was then that I saw his eyes, and I froze, just like that. Like there was a spell of some sort in the air.

His eyes were blue, a deep, deep, deep, blue that looked almost violet in the dim light of the tent. They were eyes like I had never seen in any other man that had come here, let alone a man that had been labeled 'red'. They were calm, collected, and somehow, content, unbelievably content, like a vast sea of calm that I had fallen into, and the feeling washed over me again and again, until my hands stopped shaking.

The one corner of his mouth turned up in a small, tiered smile, and he took in another aching breath.

The whole one side of his face was swollen up to the point where you could only see a small slit of his eye through the swollen lid. Two deep gashes sliced above his brow and more covered his neck and cheek on that side. Blond, almost white, hair covered his head and flowed over into his brow. It was the longest hair of any man in camp that I had seen and was matted here and there with dirt and blood. His leg was wrapped with what looked like an old military jacket, but it was hard to tell from all of the mud and dried blood that coated it. If those had been his only wounds it would have been almost certain that he would have been labeled blue.

But, those weren't the only ones, and I found the fear creeping back into my body and the tightness back into my chest. My hands moved to my rosary and began to tug again.

On one side an old beater was balled up and fashioned to his stomach with strips of torn cloth. They had probably both been white at some point in time, but now only the strips of cloth used to tie the shirt were white, and only on the opposite side of the wound. All the rest of the material was a dark rusted brown, and when he took a breath you could see the crusted bandages come up a bit and newer fresher scarlet liquid pour from the wound.

On his wrist dangled a Tag as red as the man's blood. I nearly vomited right there, nearly. His eyes were what brought me back to reality, to hell, call it what you may.

I felt the ocean of his near violet eyes wade over me and I welcomed the peace with open arms.

"Alice?" I broke my gaze form the man and looked back to Father Allum, who was now on his feet, apparently done with the man's last rights. He gave me a worried look, "are you alright?" he motioned slightly to the man with a tilt of his head, the man in the cot must has seen the signal and I saw his eyes flicker from me to Father and back again. "Will you be fine with him I if go ahead?"

All I took was one glance at the man, "Y-yes, Father." I gave him a nod and after a few seconds of silence he smiled at me and turned to go.

When I knelt by the man's cot he shifted his head ever so slightly toward me. He smiled one of his weak watered-down kind of smiles and I smiled back ever so slightly.

**I would love reviews as per weather to continue this story or not, thanks much!**

**Also, when I say 'Father Allum', it's really Benjanin from the Egyptian coven. :)**


	2. Butterfly Kisses

**Disclaimer:**

**Roses are red,**

**Violets are blue.**

**I don't own twilight,**

**And that's shity as poo. **

**Ok, to all who are reading this thing….. I NEED YOUR HELP AND INPUT!!!! **

**Here's the deal, if this story isn't that great and you don't like where it's going, sorry. But tell me please! I need to know these things, because if you don't want this to last that long, cool, I've got no problems with that, and I'll have about one more chapter to put out. **

**But… if you want it to keep going first you must tell me, and second tell me how far you want me to go. I have multiple ways in which this story could end. So just say if you want one more chap. a few of them, or if you want me to make it into a little-novel-like-thing…okie-dokie? **

**Like I said before this whole thing is based off of a REAL STORY. Men really died like this every day during the Korean War, and nurses really went around with morphine for the dying….so a moment of silence for those who lose their live please?**

…**Silence……Silence……Silence……Silence……Silence……Silence……Silence……Silence **

**Song that helped me through this chapter: 'She Swims at Night in the Silent Sea'**

**Aright, I think have bugged you enough, here's the next chapter, happy reading! :)**

"Hey" when he spoke it was calm, like a casual conversation that you would have with someone that you had know for ages. And for some reason it was his tone that set me on edge the most. How could he be so calm, so… controlled?

It felt odd, but 'hey' was the only response I could think of. But it seemed to work, because he chuckled a little bit and rolled his eyes.

He stared at me for a moment and I didn't know what to say, or _do_ for that matter. I had never met a man who had been so coherent that he could actually talk to me, let alone understand what I said back to him. Most of them were usually too far gone by then.

So I just stayed there kind of confused at what I should be doing. I glanced down the aisle of cots for Father Allum, but he was tending to a man far down the row and had his back turned to me.

I was at a loss for words. What could I do? Say 'hey would you shut up for a moment and hold still so I can kill you?' I winced at the brashness of my own words. Just picturing his eyes glazed over like all the others set my stomach on edge.

"Ya'll alright?" he must have caught my look. "Should I call a doctor fo' ya?" he actually looked worried. And there was a darting in his indigo eyes as they rotated around the tent in a second to locate every doctor in the vicinity.

I couldn't help but crack a smile, and that in itself was refreshing. He was so serious, it was comical. "Well, that's different, a patient calling over a doctor for the nurse, and not the other way around." I giggled a bit. He studied me for a second then began to laugh with me. "I've never heard of such a thing."

His laugh was a smaller one than mine, and he seemed to keep the rumble in his chest rather than letting it travel all around his body like some people did when they laughed. Then again I guess he had an excuse, it must have been painful to move anything at all.

He smiled at me and I was instantly caught up in his gaze again.

A numbing feeling ran through my body, and it spread out over me like a vast ocean wave. It was like somebody had picked me up and swept me away from the receiving tent, away from the hospital, away from the war…and I was back home safe and sound with Emmett and my mother and there was no fear, no pain… nothing.

His eyes moved me away from the present and into… into… I don't really know what it was….

It felt like when I was a child and Emmett and I would play tag in the front yard. How my blood would rush and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. The old tree out front was safe, it was home base, and when you wrapped your arms around it nothing could touch you… I would still feel my heart pounding but I knew I was safe.

Nothing could touch me there not Emmett, or the fear, or the war. That's what it felt like; his eyes were home base… they were safe…

"Can I ask fo' ya' name?"

"Alice" I said without hesitation, at this point I was so completely lost in his eyes, in his voice, that I would have done almost anything for him.

He chuckled again, "A beautiful name to go with a beautiful woman." He smiled somewhat sheepishly at me.

I must have looked like a goldfish for a moment or two because I kept opening my mouth and closing it then opening it again trying to talk. But, I just couldn't think of how to respond to this.

I had never had a patient say something like that to me. And, it seemed almost awkward, a man flirting with his executioner. I guess it brought a new meaning to 'flirting with death'.

"Were-" I looked at him again, and shook my head. Then I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching me. "Were… you just …umm… flirting with me?" I pointed a finger at him then myself.

He threw his head back into the pillow and laughed again. His smile was so big that his cheeks pushed his eyes shut.

For a moment I felt a sharp pain jabbing in my chest and I missed the sight of his blue orbs looking back me with the calm that they brought.

He continued to laugh, and the sound of it grew stronger and stronger and his sides began to shake. And I felt a smile ghosting its way back into my face. Surprised, though I was, about his previous language, there was something infectious about his laughter.

Then he froze, sudden as anything, and I could hear a slow hissing coming from between his gnashing teeth. His eyes were still closed but this time not because of his smile. It was the pain in his face, and his skin had drained to a bone white. There were circles under his eyes that I hadn't seen before and lines in his face that gave it a harder, more stone-like look.

I couldn't help but watch in horror; it was like I had been frozen to my spot on the ground. My chest tightened and I felt frantic to stop his pain.

The thought of calling a doctor flew into my mind but, I soon remembered that the man was condemned to die anyway. I shivered at those words.

A rock hit my stomach at the thought of that, and I dismissed the idea of getting a doctor. They wouldn't be able to do anything, and would just have me pump him with morphine all the sooner.

The image of him no longer living, breathing, laughing, but as a corpse, still and cold, well, it made the rock in my stomach slide a little lower.

I detested the thought utterly and totally.

He couldn't die.

He just couldn't.

But, then again, it might be the only kind, humane way out for him, and wasn't I accountable for that?

Who was I to say that his pain should be prolonged?

How could I make the choice to have him suffer more?

I watched his Adam's apple bob up then down his throat as he swallowed and I found myself breathing with him, fast at first then slowing and quieting.

"If you would please excuse me in sayin' this miss, I'd be much obliged, but, sometimes one can't but help one's self when confronted with a' Bell as fine as you" The ends of his mouth curved up in a small smile, but I noticed it wasn't like when he smiled at me before, something had changed.

"Remind me not to laugh that hard again." He had lost something in his voice, like the last few moments had beaten something out of him. Then again, I'm sure it had. The color still hadn't come back to his face and his voice was a bit quieter when he spoke. I found myself having to lean in slightly to hear him.

"Would you like some morphine?" I asked, then instantly regretted it.

He stared for a moment at the long needle in my hand and said, "No, thank ya', I would like to live a lil' bit longer," then he tagged on at the end, "tha' is if ya' don't mind." He asked it like he was asking my permission to live.

I instantly felt ashamed of what I said, and even more ashamed of what I had been thinking earlier.

I felt the need to apologize, make him see that I really didn't want to hurt him. That I hadn't ment the words I had said.

The morphine would be for his pain, not for – I couldn't bring my self to think of it. "I wouldn't ha-" my nose was beginning to hurt, it my first alarm when I knew the tears were coming. "I didn't mean to-" I was blubbering at this point.

He nodded and lifted his finger to his lips, "Shhh…"

There was a gentleness in his face when he looked at me, and I felt my heart fall into the depths of my stomach again, along with the big rock, which was still sinking lower and lower with every passing moment.

"I know…" he whispered.

"I'm sorry…." My voice broke, and I felt a trail of warm liquid run down my cheek, "I-" my lips quivered a bit. I shook my head and closed my eyes.

No matter how badly I wanted to see the deep, calming, blue in his eyes that I missed so dearly, I couldn't bring myself to look into them. The shame was too strong. "Sorry…" was all I could think of, and even to my own ears it was barely audible.

There was a rustle on the cot beside me, but, again, I didn't dare look at him.

"Hey, hey, Shhh…" his voice was soft, like a feather tracing over my skin, and I couldn't help but put some faith in it.

"Shhh, it's ok, it's ok…" he crooned again and I could feel the emotion build in his voice. Something pressed against my cheek and slowly followed the trail of my tear back up towards my eye.

I couldn't help but lean into the sensation. "Shhh…" I heard his voice echo again, "I know…. Shhh…it's ok."

It brushed the gathering water from under my, traced down my cheek, over my jaw line and back up again.

When I opened my eyes he was staring at me, a somewhat broken expression on his face, "Shhh…." Slipped from between his lips again and he smiled weakly at me. Again I felt the movement on my face and saw that it was his hand was outstretched towards me.

As his fingers trailed over my cheekbone again they felt rough, but not in a bad way, it was in a good way. Had his hands been soft I would have wondered about his ethics on the battle field. But they were rough, and that was a good sign, at least in judging a man's character.

"Ya' alright?" he asked me again.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out so, I simply nodded.

His lips turned up a bit in a worried smile and I felt him run his knuckles over my cheek once more before they lowered back onto the cot.

Somewhere between my face and the cot our fingers became intertwined, but neither seemed to mind much. Despite the loss of color in his face he looked more relaxed than before.

"Thank you" was all I could manage.

He nodded slightly closing his deep cobalt eyes. His long, blond lashes kissed the tops of his cheeks and it reminded me of the butterfly kisses my mother used to give Emmet and me when we were young.

For some odd reason, I felt compelled to do the same to the young man.

So I though to myself, would I want butterfly kisses when I was dying?

Would I want another's lashes to beat on mine when death was singing?

For obvious reasons, anyone could have guessed my answer…

**OK, there's a little bit of a cliffy for ya! **

**I would really love some reviews as per where I should be going with this, if not I'm just going to keep it to one more chapter, and keep the genre at 'tragedy'.**

**But…. If I do get some more reviews, I'll switch the genre (hint hint) and grantee that our little Jasper won't go down without a fight! :-)**


	3. Southern Cousins

**Diclamer:**

**Roses are red, **

**Violets are blue.**

**I don't own Twilight, **

**And that's shity as poo. **

**Hello all! For every one that reviewed thank you so much, I made my week!! :)**

**If any of you haven't noticed, I've changed the genre of this story, it is going to be a fair bit longer, so thank you all for getting back to me about that, it really helped. **

**I really don't have much more to say, but, thanks of reading, and I hope that you at least have a bit more of an understanding of just how hard it was for a lot of people during the Korean War. **

**For all of you who don't know what 'Butterfly kisses are, shame! shame! **

**Just kidding, but, really your going to need to know what they are to get this chapter, so you might want to look them up if you don't know what they are, or ask someone.**

**Also, to juniper294, see if this is a bit better, I tried to make him sound a bit more 'sickly'…**

**So here you go, happy reading!**

The pillow smelt like earth and bleach when I pressed my face to it and it held a stark contrast to the man's skin, which smelt of fresh sweat and salt and rust.

I ran my thumb over the calloused back of his hand and took another deep breath before leaning even closer to his face.

There were small specks of dried blood and dirt caked to his cheeks and forehead. I noticed a fresh layer of sweat spreading a glaze over his brow, but when I pressed my forehead to his I realized the perspiration was cold as ice.

He still had his eyes closed and I half wondered if he was unconscious. Moving back slightly to study his face he mumbled something, so I knew his was awake.

I leaned my head back down to his so that we were touching, face to face, and blinked.

My lashes came down upon his and brushed gently back and forth over them again and again. His eyelashes were as long, if not longer, than mine and they tickled my eye lids and cheeks as I moved.

I felt a gentle pressure on my hand as he gave it a small squeeze, and I squeezed it back.

Here and there I caught glimpses of azure gazing back at me. I felt the tickle of his warmed breath on my cheeks and lips and felt the softness of his lashes brushing against my own eyes and cheeks.

He too had joined in with the butterfly kisses.

I smiled feeling a small pressure against my hand again.

The fluttering continued as I moved about him, and the butterflies quivered over his cheeks and I felt them landing on places on my forehead and by my ears. I trailed down to his chin, over his nose, and back up to his cheek.

Here and there I fluttered around him and tried to brush on every part of his face that I missed, repeating often in some areas.

After some time I felt him stop fluttering and I pulled back to see if he was all right.

The man was merely focusing on a random point in space, gazing at it with slightly unfocused eyes.

It was a point, which I feared, I could not see, nor would I ever see. He took in a breath, but this one seemed a bit more ragged, more strenuous than before.

I looked down at his abdomen to see, in horror, that the places where his bandages had once been white were stained a fresh primrose red. More of the bright liquid was seeping out and pooling in areas of his jacket where the cloth was already too sodden to absorb any more fluid.

I could hear the wind rush through my lips in a quick gasp.

The rock managed to scoot even lower into my belly, and it banged about and echoed in my chest. I think I was more terrified then than at any other point in my life.

I felt a light squeeze in my hand. That simple movement gave me calm in the midst of a storm, and it was a calm I desperately needed.

He murmured something but his words were too soft for me too hear over the pounding of the blood in my head.

Laying my head next to his on the pillow I heard him speak again. He was still gazing at that random spot in space.

"My mother used to do tha' to me when I was…" his voice trailed off at the end until it got to the point where I couldn't make out the words. He never finished his sentence, but just continued to stare into the thin air like before.

I was losing him, I could see that, and I worried me, worried me greatly.

I didn't want him gone…

No, I couldn't have him gone…

The image of his corpse flashed into my mind and I had to fight very hard to stop the bile from rising in the back of my throat. Pressing my face further into the pillow I inhaled deeply and tried not to faint or vomit, or a combination of the two.

It was selfish, I knew it, but I couldn't stand it… I wanted to keep him with talking, wanted to keep him awake…

I wanted to keep him with me.

"Where did you come from?" I asked, blurting out the first question that came to mind. I wanted to hear his voice again, wanted to see the calm in his eyes again. I couldn't help myself from saying it, I would have said anything at that point if it ment keeping him with me.

_Selfish_

The word echoed through my head over and over like the constant droning of a fly that wouldn't leave. I ignored it.

His lips curved up a bit and I heard him say, "My mother?" It sounded more like a question than an answer.

His words relived me a little bit. At least he had enough energy to crack a joke. "No, no," I whispered back, my lips right by his ear. "I mean _really_, like, what town or state or something…"

"Texas" he managed, "down south by the Rio." The last word came out as a gasp.

I pulled my self up a bit to see his face and it was straining considerably. With each breath he would wince, and his brow seemed to be permanently knotted together in a tangle of lines.

"I can't really remember the town," his closed his eyes and winced and he sucked another breath in and opened them again. "Once my parents died we moved out'a state." I could hear his teeth grind together as he spoke through them, and the pressure increased in my hand.

I regretted bringing up the subject of his life prior to the war. If I would have known that it would have unearthed this can of worms, I would have never asked. The last thing I wanted to do was cause him more pain.

"I'm… so sorry." It was really the only thing I could think of, but looking back on it, I'm still not sure if I was apologizing for what I had said, or the life that I would soon be taking.

He moved his head stiffly back and forth, squinting his eyes and holding a grimace on his face. "Naw," he said in a quick breath, then inhaled again, "I was too young, I didn't really know em'."

"Oh" was the only thing I could manage to force through my lips.

Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. Then again the lose of his voice seemed to bite into me and tear me inside, not to mention make the bolder in my belly toss about.

I was forced to speak again.

"Ok, now don't get mad at me for saying this, but…" I hesitated.

I heard a soft, almost inaudible chuckle leave his lips, and he rolled his head to the side a bit so he could see me better.

"I don't think I could ever get mad at you." It came out as a soft whisper, but there was something behind the story depths of his eyes that told me what he said was true.

The end of his mouth tugged up a bit and the look in his eyes stirred something in me. It was something I had never felt before.

A warm globe settled at the junction of my legs and momentarily pushed the cold empty feeling of the rock away from me.

I could feel blood seeping up through my collar. And a similar warmth began to creep up my legs to my loins and down from my stomach to the same place, till they all came to a head and hovered and floated around the warm orb, causing it to grow and push against my flesh as if struggling to get out.

I shivered at the sensation.

Glancing back to him he had the same smile on his face and sparkle in his eye. "So..." he said, his voice still heavy and ruff, "What were you goin' to ask me?" he raised his one good eyebrow ever so slightly. It was so slight, that anyone passing by would have missed it, for the movement was so small, but I could tell. And behind his deep indigo eyes, I knew he was laughing inside.

"Ok," I said, trying my best to compose myself, but that smile of his kept the heat and pressure between my legs flaring.

"You still live in the south, right?" He nodded slightly on his pillow, his forehead still scrunched and stone-like. "Well, is it true, that… umm…" I couldn't think of how quite to word it.

His lips twitched slightly. "Do you really marry your cousins down there?"

There I said it.

I was curious, and hey, it should keep him talking…. shouldn't it?

He exhaled loud and sharp and his shoulders shook slightly. There was the oddest expression on his face, like he was stuck somewhere between pain and laughter. I heard his teeth grinding again, and his face wrinkled even more while he took quick shallow breaths.

"Don't laugh too hard, remember" I whispered I could hear my voice quiver as I spoke, and I think he could too.

"I won't." he choked out, and went back to his half writhing half laughing state.

I wasn't sure if I should worry or laugh with him, it just all seemed so frustrating to me, not to mention the warmth that was still pulsing incessantly in my thighs…

**Well, I hope ya'll liked that, I tried hard. If you would like, please review, it would mean the world to me. **

**Also, I'll probably be able to squeak out about two more chapters with Jasper, just so ya'll know. **

**See ya! -Tusch!**

**Push the little button down there; you know you want to review!!!!!**

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	4. Hands and Heat

**Disclaimer:**

**Roses are red, **

**Violets are blue.**

**I don't own Twilight,**

**And that's shity as poo!!!**

**Ok, well, hey, I though ! made you guys wait long enough.... so here's the next chap. **

**Also, i have another story that I'm working on right now, it's called Letters to Nanticoke, it's another Alice and Jasper story, so go cheak it out!**

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**I have also noticed that i get tons of hits and like, no reviews so.... I don't mean to be hard here, but if ya'll don't review...I don't update....so just push the button and type!!!! **

**For this stoy I will probably only be able to sqweeze out one more chapter with Jasper, so just be warned......**

Eventually he came down for his laughing high and spoke, "No," he said between gasps.

"No, what?" I asked, generally confused. My mind had gone completely blank. More or less the entire time he was laughing I was trying my best to pinpoint why my thighs felt like jell-o and why my heart was pounding so much……

I hadn't figured it out.

"No, to your question." he whispered, his face still pale but smiling slightly.

"What ques-" then I remembered and more blood rushed into my face, "Oh…"

He smiled and closed his eyes, "We don't marry our cousins down south…" his brow furrowed and he tagged on at the end, "generally."

"Generally?" I asked, "Well, what's that supposed to mean?"

"There are always exceptions, right?" his voice seemed to be almost mute.

"Well… Yeah, I suppose so…" I saw his hair move slightly as I spoke and suddenly realized how close I was to his face.

"I don't think you would really…" he took a shaky breath, "call this marrying your cousin, but…"

Now I was really confused, what was he talking about? I was having trouble following his train of thought. Could the pain be driving him mad?

I glanced again at his bloody body and found that it could be a more than plausible idea.

There was silence for a short time then he spoke, "My friend Peter," he closed his eyes and I could have sworn a look of longing passed over his face, "Listen," he said grabbing my hand now with more force, "If he comes…." He winced as he took another breath, "Comes here….don't" his head shook form one side to the other slightly, and he stared at me.

"Don't what?" I asked, trying to goad him to finish his sentence. I squeezed his hand back.

"Don't let him _die_," He looked me dead in the eye and it took my breath away and made my throat go dry. It was pleading and commanding in the same note. And it scared me.

His eyes pierced mine and I could feel his hand start to shake slightly. He opened his mouth in what I thought was an attempt to speak but then closed it and let his head fall back onto his pillow. He whispered something that I didn't catch, and then said it again.

Staring at the ceiling he continued to chant the words over and over again and again. Leaning in closer I found that he was repeating the same words…

"Dear God, please, please, God please….please, Lord, please, please…dear…"

Eventually his pleading got so soft that I could only watch his lips quiver as he repeated his silent chant.

The warmth between my legs disappeared when I looked into his eyes and saw the desperation lying there. It made me shake with him and the cold feeling of the boulder returned and this time, sank lower than it had before.

"Shh…Shh… it's ok… it's alright…" I moved my thumb across the back of his hand, and continued to croon. "I promise…" I was grasping at straws at this point, "If he comes I'll take care of him…" I squeezed his hand so he would realize what I had said.

His lips ceased to quiver and he looked back to me, his eyes as wide as the swelling on his face would allow them to go. The glazed blue in his eye focused in a single corner until enough water gathered and spilled over the rim of his golden lashes. It glided down his cut and swollen cheek and dripped off onto his pillow only to be instantly absorbed.

Without thinking I reached my hand out to cup the side of his face while still keeping a tight grip on his other trembling hand. At first he winced away for the pain and I chided myself for being so stupid as to place my hand on the maimed side of his face, but before I could pull it away, his hand wrapped around mine holding it to its place on his cheek. I felt his head lull to the side slightly and press back into my hand.

"You're warm…" he whispered and I saw his shoulders shake a bit, whether it was from shock and blood loss or fear I did not know.

"You're cold," I noted, and it was true. His skin felt like ice compared to mine and it frightened me.

He exhaled slightly and I felt the muscles in his hand relax a bit so it drooped.

"Yeah," he breathed, and taking a deep breath continued, "An' I bet I'll be" another breath, "a lot colder soon…" his lips twitched.

My insides seemed to shutdown, and my ribcage close in, constricting my lungs. "I- I didn't- I …" but he didn't hear me, and if he did he made no notice of my words.

The muscles in both his hands went slack and his head drooped heavily on my palm, his cold sucking the warmth from my sweating hand.

For the longest time I though him to be unconscious, heading closer to death, but every time I tried to muster the will the lift my hand from his body it was as if suddenly iron shackles were fettered to my arms and I could not move them.

When more time elapsed then I could count he spoke. "I keep…thinking…" at this point only his lips quivered, his jaw didn't even move other than the slight shivering of his body. "Tha' I'll… wake up…" his eyes fluttered but didn't fully open.

There was another pause and I watched his still form and traced small abstract lines into his chilled skin.

"Tha's not gonna' happen…" I could just barely make out the words as he spoke them, "is it…?" I saw a shred of blue-purple staring at me out of a slit in his eye, and the calm was back again, the ocean had ceased its rolling tumult behind his lids.

There was peace and acceptance once more.

I felt my whole body start to quiver and my voice cracked as I spoke, "_no…_" it was a whisper not much more powerful then his, and I found I could say no more, another rock lodged itself in my throat and refused to move and the pressure built in my chest.

The moisture gathering behind my eyes blurred my vision and I felt my jaw tremble slightly. That look, that single harmonious look brought enough pain to me it was as if it cleaved flesh from my bone. A soft ripping sound sputtered from between my lips and my shoulders shook uncontrollably, my face twisted in to some unattractive shape and I felt the branding of tears scurry down my cheeks turning this way and that, catching at the dent by my nose and merging together to make one rolling drop of salt and water.

This time there was no hand to comfort me, to stroke the tears away and so they came like a strange hiccupping rain shower, just with no rainbow at the end. After some time his eyelids drooped, too heavy to hold up any longer, and covered the azure ocean beneath them, which was now calm and unmoving…still and silent…

Another shiver traveled up my back and I hunched forward more and let the tears come unabashed…

No movement came from his now still body and I couldn't help but let out a small whimper as an incomparable pain shattered through my chest. After a time of trying, I couldn't find the strength to lift myself back up again. It was like a massive hand had reached into me and wrenched out all of my support, all of my willingness, my hope…

I just lied there, crumpled inside, and wondered if this was what it felt like to die, this unbelievable aching that consumed you… was this what it felt like?

If so I think I would gladly welcome death, the pain was horrid, yes, but at least there would be a way out… a way to end it all…

There was a murmur beside me and the hope that he could still be alive acted as a makeshift plug to the pain, and the feeling was wonderful, uplifting, like a great yolk had been lifted from my shoulders.

"Alice…?" his eyes were still closed, and his word sounded more like a breath then actual speaking, but at this point, screw it all… he was _alive_.

**Hope you liked that one, it wasn't one of my favorite chapters, but hey, Also I have something to ask of ya'll, and if your mind's not made up right now, then you can answer to it later, but, would you guys like to see what Jasper's family is going through while this whole thing is taking place? - I'm telling you now, his adopted parents are Esme and Carlisle, and Rose is his twin.... so just tell me what you thinK... ok?**

**Also, one more thing, and i don't mean to be hard here, but if ya'll don't review...I don't update....so just push the button and type!!!! **


	5. Author Note:

**Ok, sorry I know this is not an update, but I need to know if you guys are really liking this, or if I should just stop with this one, and quite splitting the time between my two stories and focus on the other one. I'm really getting more hits on this story than my other one and, to be honest, like writing this…but if no one is going to say anything, then I'll just stick with working on my other one…..**

**Come on guys! Throw me a bone here! I got one review, not looking a gift horse in the mouth, but tell me, or don't tell me, to continue this….**


	6. Cursed God and Spit

**I am soooooooo sorry for the laaaaaaate update. But thank you all, you have convinced me to keep the story going. :-) **

**Roses are red,**

**Violets are blue.**

**I don't own Twilight,**

**And that's Shity as poo!**

**Well, tell me what you think… I must also say I would like to have 6 Reviews for this chapter… okies... can we do that?**

"Alice…?" his eyes were still closed, and his word sounded more like a breath then actual speaking, but at this point, screw it all… he was _alive_.

"Yes?" My voice shook horribly.

"Would you…" he took a short breath, "do a favor?" his one eye was cracked and staring at me.

"Uh-huh." I gulped a bit of air and moved closer to hear him.

His lips parted and quivered slightly, but I couldn't hear any thing. He drew in a breath and I could hear it rasp in the back of his throat and saw him wince.

A tell-tale sign, he was drowning in his own blood.

"Tell them" his closed his eye and sighed out the rest, "that I love them, more" there was more gurgling for a minuet "Than anything in the world."

"Tell…?" I shook my head, "tell who?"

"My _family_…"

I couldn't say anything, it was like I was frozen to the ground.

"Tell them…" he opened his eye again to look at me, "I did it for them… so they could be safe…they…" he closed his eye and a tear rolled gently, humbly, down his cheek. Quiete like an old man on a simple strole. It was totally numb and unknowing of what was going on. Like it had no idea this boy was dying. Like it didn't care...

I hated it for that.

"They mean everything… to me…" he stared at me once more, "Can …you?"

I nodded even though I really didn't know fully what I was nodding for.

He slowly reached his less bloody arm up to his head and I heard the hiss escape between his swollen lips. His fingers shook as he tried in vain to lift his dog tag over his head.

"Here, I-I can get it…" lifting his neck slightly I looped the mettle chain over and around his head. Coiling it in my palm I nodded to him and felt my eyes become misty as I read the name, _Jasper Bulrigard Whitlock. _

Wow, it was a southern name, and, had I not been under the circumstance I was under, I might have laughed. But now, I was fighting like hell not to break down.

"I'm ready" he breathed… I nearly lost it there.

Not only do I have to watch this boy suffer but mow I have to kill him? I just kneeled there for a moment and thought.

It was kind of like one of those out-of-body experiences they always talk about in books. Like it wasn't really me there with Jasper, it was someone else and I wanted to curse and spit and hit the person. Call them a killer, a murderer…

They were no better than the Koreans doing the shelling…

I was no better than the Koreans doing the shelling…

I…

Me…

But instead of cursing to God for his very existence… for allowing such atrocities to take place…

Instead of spiting in my very own face… though, I don't really know haw I would go about it…

Instead of pulling my hair out of its very roots and kicking and screaming and… and … crying….

Instead of any of those I simply asked the dying boy beside me, "Are you sure?"

_Are you sure you want to die? _

_Are you sure you want me to kill you?_

"Yeh" he didn't bother opening his eyes to look his killer in the face. And I was thankful for that.

I tucked his dog tag neatly in my pocket hidden behind my blooded apron that held the morphine.

I pulled out the syringe and then the morphine. My hands were shaking so bad it took two tries just to get the needle into the bottle, and then two more tries to fill it somewhere past 300 mg.

It was enough to kill and man, or an elephant, for that matter.

About thirty seconds elapsed between the time I started looking for the brachial vein and the time I found it. His blood presser was just so low.

Touching the point of the needle to the crook of his arm I closed my eyes, penetrated the vessel, and pressed my shaking finger down on the pump…

My heart felt like it was on fire, my lungs were about to burst, my brain had one of those circus monkeys running around in it banging its cymbals together. And all around me, the Receiving tent was normal and bustling…

**I have something to ask of ya'll, and if your mind's not made up right now, then you can answer to it later, but, would you guys like to see what Jasper's family is going through while this whole thing is taking place? - I'm telling you now, his adopted parents are Esme and Carlisle, and Rose is his twin.... so just tell me what you think... ok?**

**Well, tell me what you think… I must also say I would like to have 6 Reviews for this chapter… okies... can we do that?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Roses are red, **

**Violets are blue.**

**I don't own Twilight, **

**And that's shity as poo…**

**Hey, guys, so sorry I havn't updated recently, well, like that whole summer… anyway I was really busy, and a lot of people I know die… so over all it was 'the best summer ever' *Sarcasm*.**

**So here's the next chapter, I'll start updating regularly now, okies?**

There was a thick fog around me as I felt my thumb come to a stop, where it wouldn't go down any further. I thought I had hit the bottom of the lethal dose, but when I peeked at it, I found the vile stopped between 230 and 220 mL. My thumb was stuck totally immovable. In fact, it wasn't just my thumb it was my whole hand. It didn't even shake… it was like my body was just saying…..

'no'

Between 70 and 80 mL of morphine. I thought for a moment…. That wasn't enough to kill a man…

My head spun again and it was like somebody fed the monkey in my head three pounds of sugar. The cymbals wouldn't stop.

Quickly I glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching me. No one was…

Pulling the needle out of the man's arm I knew what I had to do… or at lease try to do. I wasn't shaking anymore and I quickly emptied my needle and slipped it into the fold in my standard green nurses apron.

I stood and before I could come up with some asinine reason to stop myself I snipped off the plastic red tag from around his wrist and slipped it in my pocket along with the poison laced needle.

I said three Hail Mary's and an Our Father on my way to the next man tagged 'blue'. He was out like a light, probably already given his dose of morphine. I checked again to make sure on one was watching… and no one was. I slipped his blue plastic tag up the sleeve of his shirt and far out of site. The man wasn't badly wounded. He could spare some time for Jasper. A little time was all Jasper really needed… all he had left.

I turned on my heal and walked, much more slowly than I wanted, l back towards Jasper's cot. I had to act somewhat normal, for heavens sake I was breaking military code! I passed Jasper and continued on down the row and took a right near the front of the tent and another right a few rows later.

Not too far down a nurse was bent over another solder's cot with her butt stuck up a little too high in the air for my liking. Actually it was a little too high for anybody's likening except the young solder boy's passing through who got a very nice show. But then again, God knows how many times she's been told about that and still does it.

"Jessica?" I said, and my voice sounded calmer than I thought it would. She continued to swing her butt slightly from side to side and ignore me, as per the usual.

I cleared my throat and tried again this time with a little more meaning. "Stanley!"

The butt shaking stopped and she stood and turned around giving me one hell of a glare.

I hate being short. You want to know why? Because it gives the person your peeved at a false sense of security. '_oh, look she's small, I could take her easy.'_

No, nuh-uh, not happening.

Truth was there were days, though few and far between, where I could take Emmett. And not with a crotch shot mind you. I could take her and her butt swinging, bubble gum smacking, big bobbed self no problem.

Another reason I hated her…. she had big boobs… I most definitely did not….. Damn her….

"What, Brandon?" she said. Her lips unnaturally red and her jaw chewing on her gum like a cow would its cud.

I wanted to smack her so bad right there and then. She had no idea what was going on, none at all. How important was it that I got the tag?

Very. Very important, I almost wanted to reach into her apron now and just grab it run back and tag jasper. But no, that was a bit much I would just have to wait, and pray I didn't start shaking or breakdown in the middle of it.

"A man wasn't tagged, he needs on to get into the OT."

She raised and eyebrow and gave me a look that said… 'Why should I care?'

I almost screamed "_Because you should care!!!"_

But I didn't I just calmly continued on with a bit more venom in my voice. "I need a _blue tag_ to get him into operation."

She glanced over my shoulder and scanned the sea of bodies.

"Stanly, I need that tag…"

"Hmp… fine." She pulled a blue tag out of her apron pocket and threw it at me giving an '_I'm better then you are' _look out of the corner of her eye and turned her nose in the air.

Screw her I had a job to do.

Calmly, oh so calmly I walked back to the man with the hidden tag, and pulled it out of his sleeve. Two men with a gurney were walking by and they took him on my orders.

Turning on my heals I went straight to Jasper. He still had his vitals when I got there, and his heart was going, it was sluggish and barely there, but going none the less.

I pulled the blue tag from my pocket and pulled the cord through the loop and tied it. He looked so at peace when he was sleeping, and with his blond hair all messed up he looked like a little boy taking a nap. A precious little boy who got pulled into something way bigger than he could handle.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Emmett and Randall there, gurney in hand. "Hey sis, he need to go?"

"Um… yes, straight to the operating tent, he lost a lot of blood can you tell them that?" how easily the lie came.

He nodded at me and gave me a huge dimpled smile. "Sure can Pix."

"Thanks"

Randall gave me a nod and a smile as they lifted Jasper on to the gurney.

"You're a good kid ya know that Ali?" I looked up from staring at Jasper and Emmett gave me another smile, "Not many people could do what you do?"

I just nodded and resisted the urge to vomit.

"See ya later" Randall yelled over his shoulder and with that they shuffled out the tent. Half way down the aisle Jasper's arm slipped from the cot and began to gently suing and the two men walked with him. I had to look away.

I stood there for a little while looking at the ground almost wanting to throw up, maybe then it would take my mind off of the war and the men, if only for a moment.

I felt a warm hand touch my shoulder and spun around to see Father Allam smiling down at me. "You know he's right, that brother of yours."

"What?" I asked confused as to what in the world he was talking about.

He continued to smile at me, "Not many people _could _do what you do." He nodded to himself, "At least not as well as you do it. "

I felt my eyes widen, was he complementing me on my killing ability?! If I didn't really need to puke a few moments ago I sure as hell did now.

If he did notice my reaction, he didn't show it, but then again Father Allam tended to have a way with things like these. "you can communicate with the men in ways that no one else here can do, take pride in that."

That's when it hit me. And I felt cold inside like the heat drained right out of me from my head to my toes.

Did he see what I did with Jasper?! Oh God, did he know what I did? I could be court marshaled for stepping out of line like that, or discharged or worse… Jasper…

I hated to think of what would happen if anybody, _anybody_, found out that he was actually a red case.

I looked at Father Allam again and studied his face intently. It was nothing if not serene, and his eyes held nothing but kindness.

_Would Father really do something as cruel as that? To kill a man who so deserved to live? _

No… I didn't think so.

"Alice dear, you look worn-out, why don't you lay down for the rest of the day?" He said, his eyes showing general concern. "I'm sure you would feel better after that."

My head was shaking before I fully processed what he had just said. How could he possibly think that I would want to leave?

"No, they need help here." I could here more and more helicopters overhead, I had to keep going, I couldn't just loose it now, no way! "We'll be packed soon; the doctors are already overworked as it is."

He stared at me for a moment longer, and then straightened and nodded.

I could do this, the helicopters couldn't keep coming, eventually they would have to stop, and then, then I could break. Break like the weak little thing I was.

**I'll update soon, I promise, leave a little love… please?**


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